Challenge Something Spicy
by Mutant of Time
Summary: Dave smirks at you. "Prepare to lose, Vantass." "Not in your life, Stridouche," you retort. Dave challenges Karkat to do the Cinnamon Challenge with him, and whoever loses is at the mercy of the other! What will this lead to? Ohonhonhon . DaveXKarkat, rated M for sexually related content, etc etc.


**So here I am with one of the stories I promised you all! This _was_ going to have smut, but then the plans changed. Because I'm already writing so many other DaveKat smut fics right now, I really didn't think I'd need another. But this'll be rated M anyways because of the many sexual mentions and all that. Anyways I should have more of this shit soon, and I think I'll have a sequel to 'In Which DaveKat Shenanigans Ensue On The Meteor', so look out for that too! Anyways, I'll stop talking now.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Homestuck or the characters, they belong to the wonderful Andrew Hussie.**

* * *

"Yo Kitkat," Dave says, approaching you. You sighed, rolling your eyes at the stupid nickname and Dave's idiotic smirk.

"What do you want, Strider?" you ask him. He tosses something at you, and you scramble to catch it. You examine it. It's cinnamon, an unfamiliar substance to you.

"What the fuck is this for?" you ask, narrowing your eyes at Dave.

"The Cinnamon Challenge," he answers simply.

You raise an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?"

Dave scoffs, as if it's obvious. "I'm bored, so I want to do the cinnamon challenge with you. What happens is we each put a tablespoon of cinnamon in our mouths. Whoever can hold it in the longest wins."

"How is that a challenge?"

"Cinnamon is fuckin' unbearable man. Smell it."

You glare at Dave, but uncap the container and take a whiff. It burns your nostrils a bit and smells quite foreign, but it doesn't really bother you. You wrinkle your nose at it anyways.

"Yeah, whatever. Lets do this," you say, recapping the cinnamon and tossing it back to Dave. He catches it with ease, and motions for you to follow him to the kitchen, saying that you'd need water readily available. You roll your eyes and follow him.

Once in the kitchen, Dave fishes out two tablespoon measurements and fills them with the cinnamon, handing one to you.

"Okay so I'm thinking just the pride of winning isn't really enough so how about we make a bet or something," Dave suggests.

"What kind of bet?" you ask, scowling. Of course Strider couldn't just be satisfied with winning.

"I dunno. I guess if I win, you have to do whatever I say for the rest of the day, and if I lose, I have to do whatever you say," he says. You glance at the clock on the wall. It's 1:27, so it couldn't be /that/ bad if you lost, right?

"Alright," you agree, albeit grudgingly.

Dave smirks at you. "Prepare to lose, Vantass."

"Not in your life, Stridouche," you retort. Dave counts to three on his fingers and just as you're about to start, you stop him.

"Wait, shades off," you say. Dave immediately frowns.

"Why?"

"Because. Just do it."

Dave surprisingly obeys, but refuses to make eye contact with you. You roll your eyes in annoyance. Dave just counts down again, and the two of you shove the cinnamon into your mouths. You can almost immediately see how it affects Dave. His face contorts, and his bright red eyes begin to water. (You honestly weren't surprised about his eye color.) You, on the other hand, are highly unaffected by it. The only thing bothersome to you was the bitter flavor.

Dave manages to gain some of his composure as the initial shock had subsided. You stand there, mouth full of distasteful cinnamon, but you really aren't having a problem with it. Dave's eyes continue to water, and his face is bright red as he tries to hold the cinnamon in his mouth.

_"The flavor isn't _that_ bad,"_ you think to yourself. Dave knows it too.

Your lungs are burning for air, and you realize you should breathe. You make the mistake of breathing in through your mouth, which causes you to inhale a bunch of cinnamon.

You sputter and cough a little, but toughen out through most of it as the cinnamon practically burns your lungs. It hurts, and your eyes water, but you can handle it. Trolls were built for a lot worse than cinnamon, after all.

Dave tries not to, but ends up laughing at your reaction, causing him to have the same, only worse.

Dave gags on the cinnamon, choking and violently coughing. He turns to the sink as his body convulses, and turns the water on. He then sticks his face under the running tap, and begins flushing the cinnamon out of his mouth.

"God fucking-" Dave mumbled profanities in between taking water in and spitting it out. Once he was done, you pushed him to the side, calmly washing out your mouth as opposed to Dave's panicked haste.

Once you finished with the removal of the cinnamon from your mouth, you turned to Dave, giving him your best smirk.

"You lose, Strider," you gloat. You hadn't won _anything_ against him in quite some time, so of course you were going to rub his defeat in his face. He simply grimaces at you in return.

"What do you want from me?" he asks, folding his arms and pouting.

"Hmmm..." you contemplate your options. You'd like him to do a lot of things, but your face flushed at the thought of most of them. Curse your stupid sub-conscience.

"Watch a rom-com with me," you say smugly. "And no complaining or insulting it like a little grub," you add at the last moment.

You watch Dave's shoulders sag, probably in disappointment.

"Fine..." he says, irritation clear in his voice as he "agreed". He didn't have any other choice. The two of you walk to your respiteblock, and upon arrival, Dave throws himself onto your couch, sprawling out. You growl at him, but he doesn't hear it. Whatever. You pick out one of your favorite rom-coms, but one you hadn't watched in awhile. It's called _"In which the rust-blooded troll flushes for the indigo-blood who is supposed to flush for the blue blood but has caliginous feelings for instead so the rust blood enters the indigo's as a moirail and the indigo blood eventually flushes for the rust, which causes problems and confusion and the two matesprits become banishèd from the city and run away to live happily together_." It's a pretty great film, if you do say so yourself. Dave zones out when you read the title to him. Oh well. You put the disc in and make popcorn while the previews play. You curse when you realize that you hadn't turned on your translation box. You quickly turn it on, and the Alternian growls and clicks turn into smooth English words.

You return to your kitchen to retrieve the popcorn and then head back to your living room. It dawns on you that your respiteblock is basically a hive of its own. You probably have so much room because you chose a secluded part of the meteor to reside in. After all, Dave's room, located towards the middle of the meteor, was spacious, but just one room with a ablution trap connected to it. Meh, what did it matter?

You're tempted to sit on Dave's legs or in his lap, but instead, you unceremoniously lift them, sit down, and then let his legs drop back down on your lap. You then set the popcorn on top of them, and give Dave a look that says, 'I win again.'

Dave sighs, but ignores you mostly as you press play from the remote, and the movie starts.

As it plays, you munch on the popcorn, and even Dave occasionally snags a handful. The heartfelt movie draws you to the brink of tears every once in awhile. You finish willing away another round of tears, but the chance of getting them again fades as dread fills you.

The scene that you were really hoping wasn't in this movie comes on, locking in the dread. Luckily, it was Dave's first time seeing it, so he didn't recognize what it was at first. Maybe you could just casually skip the scene before it got too heated...No, Dave would notice for sure.

"Damn you, sex scene," you mumble, but not loud enough for Dave to hear.

There was no way Dave didn't know what this was anymore, because the actors' intent was pretty clear. You squirmed a bit and shot a look at Dave, who's face was tinged whit pink, but otherwise remained stoic and emotionless.

You tried to distract yourself with the popcorn, but it didn't really work. You settled for biting your lip and trying to stay still, because even if you didn't want to admit it, this was a really hot scene, and you weren't any less than real bothered by it. It wasn't really your fault though; You were a hormonal, healthy troll of 7 sweeps. You briefly wonder if Dave was faring any better, but quickly shoot those thoughts out of your head. That would just make things worse. You once again curse your sub-conscience and squeeze your legs together discreetly, trying to keep your bulge from unsheathing.

As the scene proceeded to get more graphic, Dave finally broke, and turned towards you.

"Dude, I said I'd watch a romcom with you, not explicit troll sex," he says to you, something off in his boice.

You swallow. "I forgot this scene was in here, alright? It's not like I fucking did this on purpose!"

Dave raises an eyebrow at you. "You sure about that?"

Fuck, he must've noticed your...situation. Your face flushes bright, hot red, and you look down at your lap, where Dave's legs are resting. At least they cover your lap.

"You're totally getting off on that!" Dave accuses you, scoffing.

You bite your lip, choosing your words carefully. "I didn't _want_ to. Besides, _you_get off from humans, and I'm a troll. I'm healthy and normal and it's not like I can help it," you say, crossing your arms and turning your face away from Dave.

"You aren't denying it."

"Why do I need to?"

"You're admitting you're sexually aroused by this."

"Your point?"

"Dude."

Dave's eyes are on you, you can tell. You can see them because his shades were never returned to his face after the cinnamon challenge. You met them boldly, raising an eyebrow. Dave's face is tinged with pink, and you would rub it in, but you were in worse condition. The actors on the television were very obviously reaching climax, and that did no good for you. You tried not to let it show that your bulge was unsheathing, but you gasped and were pretty sure you whimpered a little.

Yeah, you whimpered out loud because a touch more color was added to Dave's face, and his eyes flickered down to where his legs were resting on your lap. Slowly, one by one, he removed his legs from your lap, and you were really embarrassed to be able to see where your bulge was moving under your jeans. Dave must have seen this too, because he cleared his throat, and your eyes snapped up to meet his.

"Maybe we should...turn off the movie," Dave suggested. You nodded and reached for the remote, but Dave beat you to it. He shut off the entire system, but seemed reluctant to move off your couch.

"Well?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at Dave. "Aren't you going to make your ironic escape now?"

A panicked look crossed Dave's face for a split second before he recovered, answering,

"Why would I?"

"Er..." you glanced downwards at yourself, trying to get your point across without actually having to say it. You squirmed a little unintentionally, and cursed yourself for it, barely being able to bite back a moan as your bulge writhed.

Dave's face flushed. Boy, he was sure losing his 'cool'. You glanced up at his eyes, something lingering there that you wouldn't be able to place if you hadn't seen it so many times before. Lust. Arousal. What?

"Strider, you are such a goddamn hypocrite!" you exclaim, realizing that Dave didn't want to move for fear of embarrassing himself.

"What," Dave said with a blank look on his face. "No I'm not."

"Yeah, you are! I can see...I can see it in your eyes, you bulge licker!"

Yeah, you're right about all this because Dave's face flushes again, betraying him even as he chokes out, "N-no. No way, man."

"You're such a fucking liar _and_ a hypocrite! I can't believe you were getting on my case ab out it when you were doing it yourself!" you rant at Dave, folding your arms and glaring.

"It wasn't even from that," Dave finally admits.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" you demand.

"Nothing," Dave says, standing up. You can't help but notice the prominent lump in the front of his God Tier pajamas. He didn't say anything about it, and you held back your comments on it for now. "I'm leaving," Dave tells you.

"No, you stay right where you are and tell me what the hell you mean by that, fuckass!" you order Dave, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down on the couch with you. He was a hell of a lot closer than before, and your legs were touching. Still, you didn't move an inch, only keeping your iron grip on his wrist.

Dave blew his breath in your face, even growling slightly before speaking.

"Alright, fine. It's _your_ fault. It's because of _you_."

"Oh no, you lost the challenge. You _proposed_ the challenge, so don't turn this on me!" you retorted. Dave sighed and shook his head.

"No, no. You're not getting it. It was because of your reaction."

"W-...WHAT?!"

"You asked!"

Your heart picked up speed, and you didn't quite know how to feel. Dave was getting off on you getting off on a movie. What. Nope. Not cool at all.

"D-Dave?"

"What?" Dave snapped, his reply more defensive than it should've been.

"Do you...do you feel your human emotion called...l-love for me?" you asked hesitantly.

Dave didn't answer right away. He just looked down at where your hand was gripping his wrists. Small droplets of blood formed where your claws dug into his skin.

"I guess you could say that," he finally responded, voice barely audible.

"You guess?"

"Yeah, okay. I 'flush' for you, Karkat."

You didn't reply to that. No, you used your grip on his wrists to pull him forward and press your lips against his. God, after so long of holding back and bottling up your feelings, even hiding them from yourself, this felt so nice. You really liked the feeling of Dave's lips on your own.

You flicked your tongue out to taste him, and you liked the taste. He tasted kinda like salt, apples, and the faint reminder of the taste of cinnamon on his lips. He pulls away from you all too soon, and you have to stop yourself from leaning forward to keep the contact.

"Haha, I guess you flush for me too," Dave says after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah," you reply. "So anyways, you have to do whatever I say..." you remind him.

"Your wish is my command," he says dramatically.

"Be my matesprit."

"Alien-boyfriend?"

"Whatever."

"Okay," he tells you, just before pulling you in for another kiss to seal the deal.

He still tastes like his weird alien spice.


End file.
